


Grounded

by theorchardofbones



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Frot, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Protected Sex, Ships Passing In the Night, Strangers, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 15:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16558739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchardofbones/pseuds/theorchardofbones
Summary: When stormy weather rolls in, Noctis's layover turns into a day and a night stuck in the middle of nowhere in the Midwest — but after finding some unlikely company in a backpacker headed for Europe, he decides it's not all bad news.





	Grounded

**Author's Note:**

> For Anon on Tumblr, who requested _The Magician_ (transformation, beginnings, good omen) from the [Tarot Prompt List](https://theorchardofbones.tumblr.com/post/179495272992/tarot-prompt-list).
> 
> In the middle of writing this, I decided it'd tie in pretty well with [The Arrangement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141433/chapters/37713527), so this is a minor spinoff/prequel.

 

Sweat prickles under Noctis’s arms, turning his skin clammy beneath the confines of his shirt. No matter how many times he ducks into the restroom to blot at himself with paper towels, it seems to have no dent.

Expensive shirt, expensive pants, expensive haircut, and yet here he is sweating buckets in the lounge at some backwater airport where the booze is comped but tastes like fucking lighter fluid.

He knows he could call up his old man, could beg for him to front the cost of a business ticket, but the whole point of this trip has been to prove that he can go his own way. After a few months of an internship with a tech startup in Cali he’d consider himself pretty proficient at looking after himself, so he’s not about to go running to daddy.

They gave him a half-off voucher for a room at the motel partnered with the airport, some budget chain favoured by travelling businessmen and philandering spouses alike. It’s almost laughable, in a way — his dad’s close friends with the CEO of the resort across town, and if he could get over his own goddamn pride he’d probably be there right now, sipping cocktails by the heated indoor pool.

As if to illustrate the futility of the situation, lightning flashes outside. Just his luck: the last weekend of his little play at independence, and he's spending it grounded due to inclement weather.

By rights, he’s not nearly drunk enough. Not drunk at  _ all, _ not even a little tipsy, and as much as cheap booze might do the trick, that’s the problem — it’s  _ not _ doing the trick.

He’s just thinking about heading out in search of something with a little more kick — maybe he could charge it to his expense account without his father finding out — when the air stirs beside him as the formerly empty stool there finds itself occupied.

He bristles with irritation. It’s early afternoon, so the lounge is relatively devoid of life — out of all the empty seats at the bar, why’d this jagoff have to pick the one  _ beside _ him?

When he hears the gruff sound of a man clearing his throat, he gets his answer: the guy wants conversation.

‘So, what’s good?’

It might be an innocuous question, but Noctis knows otherwise; it always starts with an opener, and once they rope you in they’re like a dog with a bone. The public lounge might be a world away from the one afforded business and first class, but the types you encounter are much the same.

He keeps quiet and lifts his drink to his lips, pretending to be engrossed in his whiskey as though it doesn’t make his eyes water.

‘I’ll take your silence to mean  _ not a whole lot,’ _ the guy says.

He flags the bartender down and orders a beer, and for a while he seems content to nurse it in silence, leaving Noctis in peace.

‘Some weather, huh?’

Noctis winces internally. Some people just can’t take a hint.

He might be in no mood to make small talk, but his parents didn’t raise him to be impolite; this time, he sighs and turns to the stranger with something close to a neutral smile.

He’s expecting somebody nondescript, somebody completely run-of-the-mill and forgettable — this newcomer, however, is anything  _ but. _ Piercing grey eyes, a jawline that could cut glass, and lips that twist into a wry smirk, all come together to form a package that could easily grace the pages of  _ Vogue. _

‘Sure is,’ Noctis finds himself responding. ‘My transfer’s grounded till tomorrow. Got the privilege of staying in the finest budget motel this town has to offer.’

His new company inclines his drink toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, outside which another flash of lightning illuminates the view of the parking lot.

‘Same here,’ he replies. ‘Supposed to be in Berlin tonight.’

Noctis lifts an eyebrow and turns back to his drink. Funny — now that he’s seen the guy, he finds himself a little more chatty. What a coincidence.

‘Berlin?’ he remarks, taking a sip and trying not to wince at the taste. ‘What’s in Berlin?’

The other man laughs and lifts his hand to graze his nails across the buzzed hair along the side of his head.

‘Couches to surf on,’ he replies dryly. ‘I’m backpacking across Europe. I’m Nyx, by the way.’

He offers his hand, and when Noctis takes it he’s got a good, solid shake, his fingertips and palm calloused. From the build of the guy, Noctis would wager he works with his hands for a living.

‘Noct,’ he replies. ‘Backpacking, huh? Picked a hell of a day to start your journey.’

Nyx laughs, a raspy chuckle that sends a pang of something straight through Noctis. He’s a good looking guy with an easy sort of confidence about him; probably  _ painfully _ straight, though.

‘Hey,’ Nyx says with a shrug. ‘It’s in the low seventies over there right now. Not my choice to get stuck in limbo.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Noctis mutters; when he lifts his glass, Nyx clinks the brim of his bottle against it.

‘So,’ Nyx says. ‘Where are you headed? Something tells me you’re not hoofing it across Europe.’

Noctis snorts.  _ That _ would be a sight to see — the heir of one of the States’ wealthiest and most prestigious families globetrotting with nothing more than the clothes he could stuff into a backpack. He can already think of the headlines.

‘Insomnia,’ he says. ‘I spent the summer in Cali on internship so I’m going home.’

He expects his internship to be the launching-off point for further conversation, but when Nyx’s eyes go wide it’s something else entirely that piques his interest.

‘Insomnia?’ he remarks. ‘No way! I grew up there. Small world.’

_ Not really, _ Noctis thinks. Insomnia’s one of the busiest, most bustling cities along the east coast — still, it’s a shared sort of kinship and Noctis is happy to take it.

‘Guess so,’ he replies. ‘I can’t place your accent, though. You said you grew up there?’

Nyx nods, and Noctis swivels on his seat in time to see the guy purse his lips against the brim of his beer bottle.

‘When I was little,’ Nyx clarifies. ‘Moved around a lot, though — my mom’s got wanderlust, used to drag me and my sister all over. Spent a few months in England after she met a guy, once.’

Noctis wrinkles his nose. Judging by the measure of  _ months _ mentioned, he gathers that particular relationship didn’t endure.

‘I guess it didn’t last,’ he says.

Nyx scoffs.

‘Never does.’

They drink in comfortable silence awhile until Noctis drains his glass. He’d planned on leaving for greener pastures once he’d finished, but now he’s not so sure — he moves to lift his arm and flag down the bartender, but Nyx stops him with a hand on his wrist.

‘This is gonna sound crazy,’ he says. ‘But why don’t we split a cab to the motel? Somethin’ tells me you don’t wanna spend your day in here.’

There’s an implication there, in the twinkle of Nyx’s grey eyes — an invitation. Noctis wonders fleetingly if there’s some warning he’s supposed to heed about heading to motels with strangers from airports, but he promptly puts the thought out of his head.

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

<hr>

They wind up in a car with a driver who’s terse and reluctant to talk, which suits Noctis just fine, but somehow — and this is just the cherry on top of the sundae that is Nyx No-Name from nowhere in particular — Nyx speaks the same tongue, and they chat animatedly throughout the journey while Noctis tries to keep up with the little bits of English with which they litter their conversation.

‘Love this song,’ Nyx says, as something with electronic beats and pounding bass comes on the radio. After a word to the driver, the music turns up and fills the car.

Nyx is like nothing Noctis has ever encountered, and he’s not sure if it’s the novelty of meeting somebody who didn’t grow up in private schools surrounded by kids with a net worth to rival the Kardashians, or if he’s just that special. He thinks that normally, he’d find the guy’s little mannerisms irritating, but when Nyx nods his head to the music and drums his hands on his thighs as he goes, there’s something uplifting about it — something liberating.

When their driver stops outside the motel, Noctis twists to grab his wallet from his pants but Nyx shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop him.

‘Today’s our lucky day,’ he says. ‘Free of charge, thanks to Qasim here.’

As Nyx ducks out of the car, Noctis shoots an appreciative glance toward the rearview mirror where the driver’s hazel eyes are just visible.

‘Thanks,’ Noctis murmurs, and Qasim responds with a nod.

Once Noctis is out of the car, he hurries to the trunk where Nyx is already heaving their luggage onto the sidewalk.

They’re in the middle of a downpour, so they’re soaked through by the time they get to the check-in desk — which is little more than a window with a tiny shelter in front of it that they have to cram into side-by-side while they wait.

‘You seemed to hit it off with that guy,’ Noctis says. ‘What was that, Arabic?’ Noctis asks.

Nyx sweeps his hair back on his head, sending a torrent of water dripping down his back.

‘Kazakh.’

‘Let me guess,’ Noctis says dryly. ‘You spent a few months there, too?’

‘Nah,’ Nyx says with a shake of his head. ‘One of my mom’s boyfriends. Shame it didn’t work out — I liked the guy.’

Once help finally shows up at the desk, they grab their keys and hurry toward the row of rooms on the first floor. They’re three doors apart, as it turns out — another little dose of happenstance — and as they near Nyx’s room, Noctis feels his nerves start to ramp up.

What if he misunderstood? What if Nyx really had meant to split the cab fare and go their separate ways? If Noctis makes a move now, is he going to look like a desperate, horny idiot trying to hook up with a total stranger?

When Nyx slots the card into the lock however, and pushes the door open, he turns to Noctis and nods his head into the room.

‘You wanna drop your shit into your room first?’ he asks. ‘I’ll leave the door open.’

For a moment, Noctis’s mouth is dry. He doesn’t think he’s  _ ever _ been with somebody so forward, and even though he’s grateful any uncertainty is now cleared up, he’s not entirely sure how to proceed. Play it cool like Nyx? Act natural? What even  _ is _ natural, when you’re about to bang somebody you’ve known less than an hour?

‘Uh, sure,’ he stutters.

Nyx nods and steps through the door, all but tossing his things into the room.

‘Cool,’ he says. ‘Gonna grab a shower. Make yourself at home.’

With that he’s gone, kicking off his shoes and crossing the musty carpeted floor.

Noctis is quick about dumping his stuff into his own room — he doesn’t know how long Nyx’ll be, after all, and somehow keeping him waiting seems like poor form — but he elects to take a moment to slip out of his shirt, freshen up at the sink, and tug on a fresh shirt. This one’s a bamboo blend tee, and it’s probably the comfiest thing he owns; he just hopes Nyx doesn’t comment on the change of attire.

When he gets to Nyx’s room, the guy’s still in the shower. He presses the door shut and glances around, opting to perch himself at the edge of the bed while he waits. The sound of running water goes on for a long while, and he figures his new companion must really like his showers. Or maybe he expects for Noctis to join him?

_ Shit, _ Noctis thinks. Now his mouth is going dry again.

He doesn’t have to riddle it out too much longer, at least, as the door opens after a moment and Nyx walks out, wearing only a towel slung low around him.

While Noctis tries not to stare — it’s difficult, when the guy has such a nice physique, set off with dark hair scattering his chest and belly — Nyx moves his hand to the knot of the towel where it’s secured around his hips.

‘So,’ he says. ‘Should we get started?’

Noctis gapes, entirely lost for words. In the silence he can hear yelling in one of the rooms further down the row, muffled but insistent.

‘Kidding,’ Nyx says, with a grin that drags up the corner of his mouth. ‘You’re pretty nervous, huh? Would a drink loosen you up a little?’

Noctis tries to formulate something suitably witty or casual, but all that comes out is a terse  _ ‘Sure.’ _

Nyx doesn’t remark on it; just turns and heads for his luggage, fishing around in his backpack until he procures a plastic bag marked with the logo of the airport. There’s a bottle of bourbon within, nothing remarkable, but Noctis figures it’s gotta be better than the liquor in the lounge.

Nyx pours them each a serving in the glasses from the bathroom, and as he perches himself beside Noctis on the bed — still very much clad only in a towel — he lifts his drink to raise a toast.

‘To strangers crossing paths,’ he says.

After they knock their glasses together, Noctis all but throws his drink back. Nyx is not wrong about him needing to loosen up.

‘So, Noct,’ Nyx says, conversationally. ‘You said you just got done with an internship?’

Noctis nods. This topic is safe for him, at least, and it proves a momentary distraction from the fact that a particularly good looking man sits close enough to touch, with only a cheap motel towel between them.

‘Yeah,’ Noctis says. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and turns his glance toward the window, where a rivulet of water trickles down the outside of the glass from some unseen leak in the roof above. ‘They just started this year. Their niche is wearable tech to track fitness and shit.’

Nyx nods thoughtfully and takes a sip of his drink.

‘Like Fitbit?’

Noctis shrugs.

‘Sorta,’ he replies. ‘There’s a little more to it than that, but they’re in alpha so I’m probably not supposed to talk about it.’

‘Ah, I get it,’ Nyx remarks with a smirk. ‘Signing your life away on an NDA, huh? Please tell me it wasn’t one of those BS unpaid internships where they expect the  _ experience _ to put food on the table.’

Noctis grimaces. He knows better than to tell Nyx he took up one such internship when he was in college, since his father was happy to cover the cost of living expenses. Nyx seems like a free spirit; he’s not so sure their lifestyles are compatible outside of this little interlude.

‘Y’know, you look kinda familiar,’ Nyx says. ‘That’s not a pickup line, I swear.’

Pickup line or no, it’s enough to break the ice, and Noctis gives an easy laugh as Nyx refills his drink for him. He wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had seen him on the front of a trashy magazine in passing, probably complete with some salacious comment about his love life.

‘I get that a lot,’ he replies.

‘Yeah,’ Nyx says. ‘I think I’d remember your face if I saw it around before.’

Now that one  _ is _ a pickup line and a corny one at that, and as Nyx splits into a cocky grin, Noctis shakes his head with a laugh.

‘How many people does  _ that _ work on?’ Noctis prompts.

Nyx shrugs; lifts the brim of his glass to his mouth and pauses with it against his bottom lip.

‘Still waiting to find out,’ he says.

At this, Noctis feels heat rush to his cheeks, and as much as he could tell himself it’s the bourbon — which is, mercifully, pretty good stuff — he knows that’d be a crock of shit. He might be the heir to a huge fortune, might have spent many of his formative years learning to contribute to charitable causes, might know a handful of A-list stars on first-name terms, but with Nyx he feels woefully out of his depth.

At the same time, it’s exhilarating. He knows that after today, after they each get on their respective flights, they’ll never see each other again. Technically, Noctis can be whoever he wants to be — but there’s little pressure to, it seems, when Nyx is happy enough with the company he already has.

Maybe it’s the liquor, maybe it’s the cheesy pickup line, maybe it’s the anonymity of a first-names-only hookup at a cheap motel; whatever it is, Noctis gets a fleeting urge to make a move, and instead of shutting it down he follows it where it takes him.

He angles himself toward Nyx, and when he leans forward he feels the guy’s arm slip around him, sitting in the small of his back. As their lips meet, Noctis breathes in the smell of him — motel shampoo, bourbon, stale weed. It’s an odd cocktail, but it seems to work for Nyx.

Nyx’s tongue brushes against Noctis’s lips, coaxing them apart. He’s skilled with it, as it turns out, and the motion of it against Noctis’s own tongue sends a pang of lust right down between his legs. He responds in kind, as best he can, and when Nyx slips his hand under the hem of his shirt and drags blunt nails up his spine, he moans softly into the kiss.

When they break apart, Nyx is pitching a tent under his towel. It’s an arresting sight given the size of him, but Nyx seems entirely unselfconscious as he tips back the rest of his drink and moves to set the glass aside on the nightstand.

He has to pass Noctis by as he does so, and Noctis finds his glance drawn to the way the towel hugs against the curve of Nyx’s ass. Noctis must still be feeling bold, because he reaches out a tentative hand to touch the back of Nyx’s thigh and ghosts his fingertips up against it.

There’s a sound of appreciation from Nyx, low and gravelly, and Noctis must  _ really _ need to get laid because it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. He takes it as encouragement and slips his hand upwards beneath the towel, tracing his palm over the muscle of Nyx’s thigh, and when he gets as far as Nyx’s ass the guy sets his glass down with a thud, hurriedly turning and pushing Noctis back onto the bed.

Dimly, Noctis registers his own glass dropping to the floor, hitting the carpet with a muffled thump, but he doesn’t have much room to think about it as Nyx leans over him, delving strong hands into his hair and angling Noctis’s face up into a kiss.

Noctis lifts his hands to Nyx’s waist, smoothes them down to the jut of his hips, and hesitates just at the knot of the towel. It would be so easy to undo it, but that feels like crossing a threshold — one they’re both clearly willing to surpass, but one that Noctis is nervous about nonetheless.

‘Go ahead,’ Nyx murmurs, breaking apart from the kiss. His own hands slip downwards and find Noctis’s fly, making quick work of it.

With that encouragement, Noctis fumbles with the towel until he gets it free; peeks down between them to see the towel slipping away and falling to the floor, exposing the toned expanse of Nyx’s thighs, his sizeable cock, and the thick, dark thatch of hair around it.

His own dick protrudes painfully into the crotch of his pants, a pressure which Nyx seems more than happy to relieve. As the guy gets the fly open, he tucks his hand in and slips Noctis’s erection out from the slot in his underwear, easily thumbing the head of it.

‘How you wanna do this?’ Nyx asks, wetting his lips.

Yet again, Noctis is speechless. He’s been with guys before, but never more than hurried fumbling through clothes — with girls it’s typically a predictable trajectory, and one he should probably try to be more imaginative about. Now that he and Nyx are here with a motel room to themselves, no interruptions and no place to be, he’s not sure what he even wants, let alone what he should ask for.

‘I—’ he stutters, opening and closing his mouth as if in mockery of a fish. He feels about as smart as one right now. ‘I don’t know.’

Nyx, at least, seems understanding enough as he looks Noctis over.

‘We’ll play it by ear, huh?’ he says.

Wordlessly, Noctis nods.

After a pause, they’re back to kissing. Nyx seems to have no reservations about being the only naked one in the room while for Noctis, even just having his dick poking out feels like he’s exposed. Nyx doesn’t seem content with just that, however, and he’s soon opening the button of Noctis’s pants and edging them down his hips, leaving them down by his thighs.

Noctis isn’t sure what’s supposed to happen here — if he should yank his own shirt off, if he should figure out what the hell it is he wants and tell Nyx — but before he can work himself up too much by worrying about it, Nyx is pulling away again and dropping to his knees, resting his hands on Noctis’s thighs and nudging them a little apart.

‘Can I?’ he asks, with a nod toward Noctis’s erection, where it gives a very pronounced twitch.

Noctis’s head swims. In all his wildest wet dreams, he doesn’t think he’s ever concocted a scenario where somebody who looks like a fucking  _ model _ wants to blow him. Before he can become too far lost in his own thoughts, he gives a hurried, eager nod and leans back a little, propping his weight on his hands.

Nyx strokes Noctis for a while, his gaze trained on the cock within his grasp, tongue moving to wet his lips. Noctis wonders with a jolt if he should ask for him to use a condom — is that something people do? Will Nyx thinks he’s a total dweeb? — but Nyx moves away, standing and crossing over to grab something from his belongings.

A moment later he’s got his wallet in his grasp, and he fishes a foil wrapper out of it, holding it between his first two fingers as he tosses the wallet aside on the bed with his other hand. He drops to his knees in front of Noctis again and tears the foil open with his teeth.

While Nyx rolls it on, Noctis watches the look of concentration on his companion’s face; Nyx’s lips are slightly parted, his tongue just visible where it rests between his teeth, and Noctis finds himself thinking all manner of lewd thoughts about that tongue and what he hopes Nyx will do with it. That, along with Nyx’s touch as he works, has Noctis shutting his eyes and breathing out a low sigh of pleasure.

Once the condom’s on, Nyx closes his hand around the base of Noctis’s shaft and looks up at him, eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

‘You still seem so tense,’ he remarks. ‘You sure you’re good to do this?’

Noctis could laugh. If he said no, what would they do? Just walk away and go merrily about their day as though nothing had happened? He doesn’t want to, at any rate, but the thought of  _ not _ being okay with what’s going on between them is so unfathomable that he’s surprised Nyx asked.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I’m good. Don’t worry.’

That’s good enough for Nyx, it seems. He nods once and leans down, his spine curving as he lowers himself, and all at once the head of Noctis’s cock is enveloped in warmth as Nyx closes his mouth around it.

Even with the condom between them, it’s intense — it’s been a while for Noctis, and he hadn’t realised how much their flirting had gotten to him. Nyx uses one hand as he goes, taking Noctis further into his mouth. When he reaches the bottom he twists gently with his fingers and strokes upwards at the same time he moves his lips. He repeats this for a while, taking it slowly at first, until he seems to settle into a rhythm that works for him.

He takes it like a champ, too, like he’s done this more times than Noctis has had hot meals. He seems to know just when to take over with his hand, just when to go harder, just when to ease off. It’s either a credit to his skill or down to Noctis’s inexperience that he feels that first tug that lets him know he’s close.

Noctis puts out a hand to Nyx’s wrist, halting him; the guy looks up at him, grey eyes dark with lust, and slips his mouth free.

‘Need me to stop?’ he asks.

Noctis feels heat flood his cheeks as he gives a meek nod.

‘It’s, uh…’ he says, trailing off as he searches for the words. There’s no way of making it any less embarrassing than it already is. ‘It’s been a while.’

Nyx tips his head in understanding; he takes up kissing Noctis instead, and this gives Noctis the chance to touch  _ him _ instead, thumbing over the head of Nyx’s cock and prompting a soft huff from him.

Noctis wonders if he should take a turn at going down on Nyx — damnit, he needs to get out of his damned head and just  _ enjoy _ himself — but again, his companion saves him the worry of figuring things out as he reaches down and grabs the hem of Noctis’s shirt, tugging it up and over his head.

Once this is discarded, Nyx wastes little time in grabbing at Noctis’s pants, and together they remove the rest of his clothes with little ceremony. As soon as the last item drops to the floor, Nyx pushes Noctis back on the bed and climbs astride him, lips finding his once more as his hand closes around his dick.

Nyx’s hair hangs loose, still damp from the shower, tickling Noctis’s cheeks; Noctis pulls away and lifts his hand, brushing the dark locks behind the other man’s ears and taking this opportunity to look at him —  _ really _ look at him.

It seems so strange to think that they’ve known each other for such a short span of time. The chemistry between them is almost unbearable, he thinks, as he holds Nyx’s glance.

After a beat Nyx is kissing him again, and Noctis moves his hands to the man’s thighs where he straddles him. He kneads his fingers into the other’s flesh, matching Nyx’s pace as the kiss deepens — a moment later Nyx is pulling away, however, and Noctis watches breathlessly as he scooches closer, lining their hips up flush, and takes both of their erections into one hand.

There’s something undeniably hot about watching Nyx stroke them in tandem, taking his time as though savouring it. Noctis is so busy watching what he’s doing — tensing in pleasure in response to it — that he doesn’t realise Nyx is looking at  _ him. _

When Noctis eventually becomes aware of the prickling feeling of being watched, he looks up and meets Nyx’s eye. He’s so goddamn sexy, from his angular features to his muscled torso where it seems to be carved out of stone like a work of art, but it’s his eyes that Noctis likes best. They’re a cool, crisp grey, but they dance with warmth as he holds Nyx’s glance, and there’s something about them that could make you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

It’s while holding Noctis’s glance, eyes boring into his, that Nyx leans forward and catches Noctis’s lips in a kiss. He braces himself over him, his other hand still working the two of them at the same time. The friction is  _ fantastic; _ in a rare moment where Nyx breaks away for air, Noctis looks down between them to watch as their cocks bob and move together under the motion, precum leaking freely from Nyx’s slit.

Hours ago, when Noctis left California, he’d thought he’d been embarking on an uneventful day. He never could have anticipated how wrong he was.

He runs his hands over Nyx’s chest, across his shoulders and up his neck; cups his jaw as he presses hungrily into the kiss. With Nyx’s hand on him, slick and sure, he’s not going to last much longer — and frankly, he doesn’t care.

When Nyx breaks away once more, Noctis pants out a breath, and Nyx seeks out his eyes with a dark glance.

‘You close?’ Nyx asks thickly.

Noctis just about manages a nod. He thinks Nyx might pull away or stop, and he finds himself opening his mouth to plead for him not to, but before he can make a sound Nyx’s on him again, mouth crushing against his with almost bruising force, fingers stroking deftly over the both of them, over and over.

Noctis comes with a choked sound against Nyx’s lips, filling the condom. Dimly, as he sees stars blooming on the backs of his eyelids, he feels Nyx’s stroking pick up to a feverish pace; heat spurts across his stomach as Nyx finds his release, and all the while Nyx never lets up kissing Noctis, tongue roving against his as though his life depends on it.

They pull apart, panting, and as Nyx shuts his eyes and lets his head hang while he catches his breath, Noctis steals a glance down between them, at the mess Nyx has made. He wonders if he should feel dirty, covered in the product of a stranger’s climax, but the more he dwells on it, he realises he doesn’t.

‘Geez,’ Nyx murmurs, climbing off of Noctis and rolling heavily onto his back at his side.

Noctis isn’t entirely sure what to say; Nyx’s muttered oath sums it up pretty well. He settles for glancing over at the man beside him and watching the rise and fall of his chest where it shines with sweat.

Nyx swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He turns to meet Noctis’s glance and Noctis finds himself bashful all at once, as though  _ this _ is the most self-conscious he’s been since they fell into — or on top of — bed together.

‘You wanna clean up?’ Nyx asks, gesturing toward the bathroom.

It feels a little like being dismissed, but Noctis supposes this is what he should have expected — just a quick lay, and off on their separate paths. He dresses hurriedly once he returns from the bathroom, and Nyx watches him lazily from where he sprawls out on the bed, still naked as the day he was born.

‘You going?’ he asks.

Noctis pauses in the middle of pulling on fastening his pants. He barely meets Nyx’s eye as he gives a shrug.

‘I mean… I guess.’

‘Why don’t you stay awhile?’ Nyx suggests. ‘Still got a whole bottle to get through.’

If Noctis leaves, it seems easier somehow — less complicated. There are no feelings to get hurt when they each return to their respective lives, no awkwardness in the aftermath of a stolen moment of intimacy. When Nyx reaches over to the bourbon and holds it aloft, however, there’s such a companionable look on his face that it’s enough to make Noctis hesitate.

He shoots a glance toward the window; the rain still thunders down outside, turning the afternoon light grey. He’s not going  _ anywhere _ in this weather, and hanging around alone in a motel room  _ does _ sound pretty shitty.

‘Eh,’ he says, sitting down on the edge of Nyx’s bed. ‘Why not.’

Nyx grins and hands the bottle over. With Noctis’s glass still upended on the floor, and having shared more than a little of each other’s spit, glasses seem like a formality; Noctis drinks straight from the brim of it, wincing, before handing it over. With a mock toast, Nyx does the same.

They’ll never see each other again after today, but that’s all right. For now, it’s enough to have each other’s company and a half-decent bottle of liquor while they wait out the storm.

**Author's Note:**

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